The Man In The Shadows
by Joel182
Summary: "A long time ago, my brother died." JeffxMatt SLASH WARNING. Enjoy :D


**I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING EXCEPT THE PLOT! Enjoy :D (Side note: I wrote this while listening to "On The Nature Of Daylight" by Max Ritcher. I owe this song for the inspiration for this story :D I thought it only fair to acknowledge that.)**

**Okay...back to the story. **

**Winter 2009**

A long time ago, my brother died. The exact date... I don't really remember. But what I do know is that it had to be a long time ago, because suddenly I was no longer the young fifteen or sixteen year old boy with the world as his oyster. I was suddenly not the boy who had a road paved for him and a light brighter than sun as his guide. In one instant, I watched my road disappear, my guiding light extinguished, and my life enshroud itself in a thick, deep darkness.

I never hated winter when my brother was alive. Even though I'm now thirty one years old, I can still remember the times when he and I used to build snowmen together. I can still remember the times when we'd make snow angels. I can still see those times, as far away as his date of death, when he would lie in the snow for hours with his mass of dark hair staining the whiteness of the snow.

Nowadays, winters like this one –ever since that day – make me a lot more numb than I ever thought I could be. The gentle flakes falling to the ground no longer entrance me like they did when I was a child. Instead, they remind me that with every passing day, a little piece of me has died.

I went to sleep the night of my brother's death. And I woke up at age twenty one. I was no longer in the warmth of my childhood room. I was waking up on the cold sidewalks of the city. Needle marks littered my body. My hair was frazzled and fell over part of my face. When I woke up, I was a twenty one year old junkie. And my brother was nowhere in sight.

Somehow, I joined wrestling. It was a positive way to channel my grief. I convinced myself to change for my brother's sake. And it worked. However, despair soon caught up with me, and before I knew it, I was falling like these snowflakes. Falling from a light stricken world into the gaping darkness of a hollow cold. A bottomless pit of pain.

I hate winter. I hope it ends soon.

**Spring 2010**

New Year's resolutions. I don't make them anymore,because like everything else, they will never bring back my brother.

Today, I'm on my way back to the family house. Vince handed me my pay check and also my suspension notice. The Wellness Program and I were never going to see eye-to-eye. Having grown tired of covering for my failure, Vince gave me an indefinite leave. I was to pack my things and disappear.

My hometown offers a familiar feeling. It's the middle of the day, yet through my eyes everything seems so void of life. Most people get over the pain of losing a loved one. Most people tell you how they did it. Most people tell you how you can. But... advice isn't something I want. I discovered that a long time ago. No matter what happens in my life, my brother was not going to be there waiting with his arms wide open and a smile on his face.

The bus stops. I get off and start walking. Every step, even after all this time, still feels as heavy as it did the day that my brother died. My councilor says its grief wearing me down. I told him it was guilt.

Like winter, spring isn't my favorite time. Winter is cold and distant. Spring was the season in which my brother left this life. Going back home to the place where it all ended in the season that it all ended anchors my heavy feet to the ground below.

I don't want to go home.

**Summer 2010 **

It took two months for me to finally manage to convince myself to go to the park behind our house. I tell the ashes of my parents' goodbye, and exit our family home. The park was my brother and I's secret place. We always went there with the idea that it was an imaginary kingdom which we had to constantly save. Over time, we chose a tree – the type of tree is still unknown to me, but it has large leaves and is remarkably old – and on it we built a rickety clubhouse from scrap parts. We named it "The Hardy Headquarters". You had to be Hardy to be in. As we grew older and the skin of innocence shed, the time we spent here thinned and varied.

I was sixteen. Or fifteen. Either way I was young the day my brother took me to our secret place and sat me under our favorite tree. He was wearing a black, fitted T-shirt. And his favorite pair of dark blue jeans. That's how things were for my brother. To him, there was always the force that went with you, and the one that went against. Everything was simply black and white.

The tree looks the same as it did all those years ago. Its bark still strips. Its leaves are still large and green. And its roots are still partially buried. Our clubhouse has not taken to age well. The white paint has now stripped off leaving tiny specks to litter the now crackly wood of the tree house. The nails – even from the ground – are visibly rusted beyond repair. Despite all that, surprisingly enough, the Hardy Headquarters has yet to become nothing more than a distant memory. Somehow, it's still nailed to the tree. And somehow this tree is still nailed to the green floor. And somehow, I'm still alive.

I was fifteen then. Maybe sixteen. Maybe in between. My brother stood in front of me. I could feel the tension and anxiety that clung to him. He kept his eyes glued to the ground – gracing my then younger face with their mesmerizing dark brown color whenever he paused mid sentence. I remember getting impatient. We never did this talk thing once we reached our secret place. I convinced my brother to speak quickly. And then he told me that he could no longer see me as his brother.

I waited for the punch line. I waited for him to burst out laughing like he normally would and say "Got you this time didn't I?" But he didn't do anything. I asked him why he suddenly thought that, to which he rebutted with an "I've thought like this for a long time now." His eyes lifted back to me. The friendliness gone, and like the winter that I've grown to hate, he became cold and distant. Fear clouded me. It was like he had pulled out a gun and pointed it at me. In that instant, I ran. He chased. I could hear him calling to me. At first his voice was low, and unmotivated, but suddenly he started screaming at me. And then he went silent. The loud sound of fast moving tires drawing to a halt on the gritty asphalt of the back road was the last thing I heard. I turned. Time stopped. My brother was no longer chasing me. He was no longer calling my name. The first thing I saw was blood. The last thing I saw was him lying crumpled on the hard asphalt. He was on his side. His back was facing me. For some reason, I didn't stand there frozen. I moved towards him, knelt down in his blood, and turned him to me. Those mesmerizing brown eyes that I had come to love dearly stared back at me. I could feel the soullessness emit from them. They were hollow. And soon faded.

I have never cried so much in my life. Not even when our Mother died. Not even when Dad went after her. My brother was gone. And he took my life with him.

The wind picks up. The shadow beneath the tree moves and engulfs me to draw my attention back to the present.

"Jeff? Is that you?"

The psychiatrist I once visited warned me of grief-related hallucinations that would most definitely be intensified with the drugs I was abusing. I ignored him pointedly. The drugs put me at ease. They allowed me to visualize my brother in more ways than one. They were the closest thing to him I had. But that was until now.

I stare wide-eyed at the man suddenly standing ahead of me. Black close-fitting T-Shirt. Dark blue jeans pants. "M-Matt?" I pull away slowly. "No. No it can't be."

"I know it's hard to believe." He smiles slightly at me. "But it's me Jeff. I'm here."

The end of his ponytail catches a short ride on the wave of wind that passes through the tree. Sunlight streams in momentarily and hits him. His right shoulder vanishes. I stand frozen in shock.

"Y-You're a ghost!" I don't mean to shout, but no drug-induced hallucination ever gave me something this vivid.

"No I'm not." He steps closer to me. Somehow I can't seem to walk away. His hand rests on the side of my face. Warmth pulsates through it, and it brings sudden tears to my eyes. "I'm real."

"You're not real!" I pull away further. The sun stings my back. His hand vanishes once it touches the golden rays, only to reappear when he pulls it back into the shadow of the tree. "See? Y-You're not...You can't be...!" I don't have the heart to tell my brother that he's dead. Even if he is just a wandering ghost. "Y-You've even aged!"

"It's been sixteen years since you came back." Mocha brown eyes – just as mesmerizing then as they are now – stare sadly at me. "I've been waiting here for you all this time."

I shake my head slowly. My hand now pasted over my mouth. Eye still wide in shock. "You're lying."

"I'm not Jeffy." He doesn't take a step further. The sun looms over me. The shadow looms over him. "Ever since that day -"

"Shut up!" I shout at the top of my lungs. "You're not Matt!" I can feel a series of conflictions boiling inside. Guilt. Hurt. Grief. Despair. Loneliness. And now regret. "How can you be my brother when you left me all alone? Matt wouldn't leave me! He would never -" It dawns on me that I'm talking to a ghost. So I turn away and run, leaving the tree, the clubhouse, the ghost and my memories behind.

**Fall 2010 **

Days turned into weeks. Weeks had turned into months. Getting a job was easier than I had thought. Keeping one wasn't as so. In just two months I was fired from my fifth consecutive job. After packing up my belongings, I left for the park. After my first encounter, I ended up going back to Matt's ghost almost every day. During our conversations I had learned about his situation. He was bound to the tree because he had unfinished business here on Earth. The shadow allowed him to be visible. In daylight his body vanishes, but he's informed me that he's still very much there. When night fall comes, and there's no moon, he can leave the tree and walk around. Aside from that conversation, Matt doesn't tell me much of anything. He just kept asking questions, and let me do all the talking. Somehow I had managed to tell him of my shameful acts, but I guess it was possible since at the time I was still envisioning this ghost to be nothing more than a figment of my imagination. Drug withdrawal was quite possibly more harmful than I expected.

"Hey Jeff." He calls in the same monotonic, yet soothing voice. "How was work?"

I walk under the tree. The shadow has lessened since the summer ended. A few yellow, red, and orange leaves litter the ground beneath our feet. "I got fired. Again."

"It's okay. You'll find a new one soon." He glances to the tree, and moves slightly to the left. He then looks back at me. That same unchanging sadness welded deep into his eyes.

"Matt" I hesitate for no reason. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ran away."

He looks at me a bit confused, before understanding hits him. "I'm the one who should be saying sorry Jeff." He cocks a sad smile. "I'm sorry for chasing you."

Somehow the little humour forces me to laugh. I had been holding guilt close for sixteen years because all this time I had blamed myself for Matt's death. When I ran, he chased and then died. Hearing him apologize made me a bit happy. It eased some of the guilt in more ways than any four hour session with a grief counsellor could. It was in this moment that I suddenly willed myself to believe that the ghost ahead of me standing next to our favourite tree was indeed my brother Matt Hardy. Even if he wasn't human. Even if he wasn't alive.

Matt glances back up at the tree. It catches my eyes. "What's wrong Matt? Why do you keep looking at the leaves?"

He looks at me with that lonely smile. "It's nothing." I can feel the cut throat tension rippling around him. It's the same now as it was back on that day. And it's just as frightening. "You better head home before it gets dark out."

I look to the sky realizing the truth before staring back at him. "Will you walk me home like last time?"

He chuckles a bit. "Sure." The sadness in his eyes is still there. "But I can't walk you through the door. I'm not allowed to."

I nod as if I know why that rule exists. After a short pause, I give him a hug to which he returns one, and bury my face in the crevice of his shoulder. "I'm just happy you're here."

"Me too." He mumbles.

All my senses are fully functional, so I know for a fact that Matt's once warm "body" has been getting colder with each day I see him. However, it's a fact I choose to ignore. And like I've trained myself to do, I pretend that nothing is wrong.

**Winter 2010**

Autumn lasts long this year. Despite snow being everywhere and biting hurricane winds sweep across the area at random, some of the trees still cling to their last bit of greenery longer than others. I walk to our favorite tree to find Matt slumped beneath it. Just like that day long ago, time stops.

I kneel ahead of him, "Matt?" I call in a sharp gentle tone as I roll him upright. Worry encases every fiber of my being. "Matt!"

He opens his eyes and looks up weakly at me. "Jeff?" He croaks. I cradle his head from each side to help keep him steady. "Hey Jeff."

I convince myself falsely that it's the winter cold that is coating my hands in a sheet of inclement. "Matt, what's wrong?" I look up frantically at the tree. Only a countable amount of leaves remain. My eyes land back understandingly onto Matt. "Tell me what's wrong!"

He coughs up a small smile. "I'm dying." My heart skips a beat. He catches the off key, and widens his smile. "Don't look so sad Jeff."

"I can't look anything but sad Matt!" Tears stream down my face. "You're leaving me. You're leaving me again!" I feel a sharp pain shoot through my being the longer I stare into my brother's dying face. It forces more tears to fall. "Matt, don't leave me! Please don't leave me all alone again!" He coughs slightly. I stop breathing momentarily and instantly wrap his limp body in my arms. "I can't watch you die again! Please tell me how I can keep you here!"

"There's nothing you can do Jeff." Deep down I knew that, but hearing it out loud forces my heart to stop. His breathing grows raspy as he struggles to lift his arm. It lands on heavily on my back. "Go away Jeff." His voice pierces my ears. The words are like acid on flesh. "Go home. Leave me here."

Despite a small need to respect my brother's wishes, I cling on tighter. "Why are saying that? Why do you always say such hurtful things to me?"

I can almost feel the smile crawl up on his face. It's gentle, but sad. "I never meant to hurt you Jeff. I swear that was never my intention." A cold breath leaves his body. I silently wished he'd stop breathing just for a moment so that he'd save up enough breath to carry him through at least one more day.

"Then why did you say it?" I had to know. I had to know now. What did my brother mean by "I no longer see you as my brother"?

Using almost all his remaining strength, Matt pulls me off his body to look into my eyes. For the first time in the months that he was here, his eyes don't hold a stony sadness. Instead, they now hold steadfast to a stoic sense of heightened seriousness. "I said it because it was the truth Jeff. I could no longer see you as my brother. It took me a while to realize why, and when I finally knew, I took you here to tell you the reason." His hand – now frozen and clammy – cups my right cheek much the same as it did the first time he appeared. His smile dwindling by the second. "It's because I love -"

I look up slowly. The winter sun strikes my eyes forcing me to look away. The tree is void of all leaves now. I stare at the bark ahead. The spot where Matt used to be. The snow below temporarily holds his indent, however I know that by tomorrow these wicked snowflakes will erase all traces of Matt's ghost existence.

First a loud scream like a warrior sensing death, and then my body crumples to each caving sob. This will make it the second time that I've cried so hard in my life. All too soon, the winter I've always hated, had ended.

**Spring 2011**

By some miracle, I have a new job. I've been able to keep it which is a second miracle. I moved out of the family house after Matt disappeared with the sunlight, and sold it right afterward. I now live in the apartment complex just a thirty minute drive away from the park.

Spring returns and instead of being hated, I've grown to love it more. Appreciate more than love anyways. Once the weekend rolls around, I hop into my car and drive back to the park. It still remains the same as it did all those years ago, only this time there's greenery instead of a sheet of icy white. The large tree – the one with our clubhouse still attached to it – is still here. This time it's budding something similar to flowers. I'll have to wait and see what becomes of that fruition.

Many months have passed since the day Matt vanished with the incoming sunlight. Not one of those months have passed that I didn't come to this tree hoping to catch even a glimpse of him. However, it seems that the solidarity of winter will never accept the company that Matt Hardy has to offer. After three months of not so much as a glimmer, I gave up on seeing Matt here. Spring had come, but Matt had not.

I look at the tree from a short distance. My mind tries hard to recall all those childhood memories made here that used to be the root of my sorrow. I find them, but instead of breaking down into tears, a smile graces my face. A piece of rotten wood - from the "Hardy Headquarters" tree house - finally releases its' hold on the tree and falls. I walk over to pick it up and possibly keep it as a memento, when time stops. I slowly rise to my feet.

"Jeff?" The soft voice pauses. "Is that you?"

I turn to see him standing there under the shadow of the tree. Black close-fitting T-Shirt. Dark blue jeans pants. Sadness fills his expression. "Matt?"

"I know it's hard to believe." My eyes widen a bit. Déjà vu is in effect. "But it's me Jeff." He walks to me and rests his hand on my right cheek. It's as warm as the sun. A small lonely smile graces his face. "I'm here."


End file.
